The Man with the Dragonbone Flute
by Susan M. M
Summary: Buckaroo Banzai, world-famous explorer, inventor, surgeon, and musician is in London with the Hong Kong Cavaliers. He hires a new roadie, a man named Remus Lupin.
1. Dr Banzai, I Presume

**Standard Fanfic Disclaimer **that wouldn't last ten seconds in a court of law: these aren't my characters. I'm just borrowing them, and will return them to their original copyright holders unharmed, or at least suitably bandaged. Based on characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling and Earl Mac Rauch; I'm building sandcastles on their beaches. Originally published in the fanzine Grimmoire #1, from Ashton Press. A FanQ nominee for Best MultiMedia Story.

**The Man with the Dragonbone Flute**

_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone/The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai_

by Susan M. M.

_for Blairbunny, occasional back-up keyboardist for the Hong Kong Cavaliers_

**London, 1982**

"Okay, guys, that sounded great. Let's take a break for lunch," the bandleader ordered.

"Start rehearsal back up in an hour?" asked the saxophonist.

"We're in London, guys. Make it two hours, so we can do some sightseeing after we eat," the bass guitarist suggested.

"Okay, we start up again in two hours. Remember to look both ways when you cross the street; they drive on the other side of the road here," the bandleader reminded his crew.

The janitor watched as the musicians put up their instruments. He finished sweeping the floor, pulled out a pocket watch, and checked the time. Leaning the broom against the wall, he removed a slender white object from his pocket and put it to his lips. He began to softly play the rock ballad the band had just finished rehearsing. The flute gave the song a haunting, ethereal quality.

"That's not bad."

The chestnut-haired janitor looked up and saw the bandleader watching him. His eyes widened as the rock singer stuck his hand out.

"Buckaroo Banzai," he introduced himself.

The janitor lowered his flute and took the proffered hand. He smiled wryly. If anyone needed no introduction, it was Dr. Buckaroo Banzai, physicist, neurosurgeon, test pilot, and rock musician. "Remus Lupin."

"What you got there, Remus Lupin?" Buckaroo asked.

"Well, the man who sold it to me claimed it was a dragonbone flute," Remus replied honestly.

"May I?" Buckaroo held out his hand. Remus passed it over, and he examined it. "Well, definitely bone, but dragonbone, I don't know."

Remus shrugged. "You're the doctor, not me."

"You know 'Eleanor Rigby'?" Buckaroo asked. When Remus nodded, Buckaroo handed the flute back. He reached for his guitar. "Let's jam."

"But you're Buckaroo Banzai," Remus said.

"That's what it says on my driver's license." The dark-haired scientist smiled at him. "And you're Remus Lupin. Everybody is somebody. Shall we?"

The janitor was only twenty-two. He wasn't about to argue with an international rock star a decade his senior. He put the flute to his lips and blew. Buckaroo picked up his guitar and began strumming.

As they finished the song, the saxophonist, Reno Nevada, applauded softly. "Nice. We hiring a new musician?"

"Oh, no," Remus denied quickly. "Just taking my fag break, and since I don't smoke," he shrugged, "I thought I'd play a tune or two. I should get back to work."

"And I thought we were going to lunch," Reno added.

"We got two hours for lunch. There's time for a few songs first." He introduced them. "Remus Lupin, flute, Reno Nevada, saxophone."

"Buckaroo, you'd make time for a few songs before splitting an atom." Reno shook his head. Then he grabbed his saxophone. "So, what's next? Bill Haley? Elvis? More Beatles? Johnny Cash?"

Remus put the flute to his lips and played the first few notes of an aria from Mozart's 'The Magic Flute.' He paused and looked up at the other two men.

"Show-off," Reno muttered, but he started playing Mozart, too. Buckaroo joined in.

They played Mozart. They played The Who's 'Pinball Wizard,' Stan Rogers' 'Northwest Passage,' Elvis Presley's 'Jailhouse Rock,' and William Grant Still's 'Little Red Schoolhouse.' Remus would have loved to have played one of Celestina Warbeck's songs, but he knew Buckaroo and Reno, being Muggles, wouldn't have heard of her.

Reno put down his saxophone. "Don't know about you two, but I'm hungry, and lunch is late."

"Remus, can you recommend a good place for lunch?" Buckaroo asked. "Someplace the locals eat, not a tourist trap?"

"The Leaky Cauldron has the best shepherd's pie in London," Remus said before he could stop himself. Silently, he cursed the _Veritas _Curse he was under, and hoped it would wear off soon. He added hastily, "But the Dapple Mare has good fish and chips, and they're closer."

"Closer is good," Reno agreed.

"Fish and chips are fine by me. Lead the way, Remus," Buckaroo invited.

* * *

The beer was warm, but good. Remus poured vinegar over his chips. Buckaroo and Reno dipped theirs in ketchup.

"So you looking at a career as a broom jockey, or is it just a pay-the-rent job?" Reno asked.

Remus smiled. Truthfully, he quite enjoyed being a broom jockey, but not in the sense Reno meant. "Well, it's not what I had envisioned for my future when I was in school."

"What had you envisioned?" Buckaroo asked quietly.

Remus put another chip in his mouth so he'd have an excuse not to answer right away. He'd wanted to be an Auror, but the DMLE didn't hire werewolves. He'd thought about returning to Hogwarts as an instructor - as a prefect, he'd found he enjoyed tutoring younger students - but again, they'd never dare hire a werewolf. "I have a medical condition that flares up now and again. It makes it hard for me to hold a real job."

Reno and Buckaroo exchanged glances. Remus hadn't answered their questions.

Buckaroo took another sip of his beer. It wasn't fermented yak milk - his drink of choice - but it wasn't half-bad. "You ever consider a career as a musician?"

"Oh, no." Remus shook his head. "The flute's just a hobby.

"You know what they say: do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life," Reno quoted.

Remus shrugged and ate another chip. Or as Reno insisted on calling them, another French fry.

"Our bass player, Pinky Carruthers, isn't technically a member of the Hong Kong Cavaliers. He's one of the Blue Blaze Irregulars. Sometimes they perform with us," Reno explained.

Remus understood the distinction. The Hong Kong Cavaliers were Buckaroo Banzai's rock band. All the performers were also members of the Banzai Institute for Biomedical Engineering and Strategic Information. The Blue Blaze Irregulars were Buckaroo Banzai's fans, friends, and helpers. The Blue Blaze Irregulars were a world-wide group of nearly six thousand men, women, and children who underwent rugged physical training, academic classes, and subscribed to the _Blue Blaze Newsletter._ They were on-call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three-hundred sixty-five days a year (three-hundred sixty-six in leap years) to help Dr. Banzai in a pinch or their neighbors in a natural disaster.

"How'd you like to sit in for a set or two tonight?" Buckaroo invited.

"I'm not a musician," Remus protested. Nor was he a member of the Blue Blaze Irregulars; he didn't even own any of the Hong Kong Cavaliers' albums.

"A musician is someone who makes music," Buckaroo told him.

"Gotta admit, there aren't that many bands with bone flutes," Reno said.

"Well, the Jubialatores have a woman who plays a deerbone flute, but I don't know of any bands with a dragonbone flute." Buckaroo grinned.

Remus could think of three bands that included musicians who played dragonbone flutes, but being Muggles, non-magical people, he very much doubted that Reno or Buckaroo had heard of Kick the Cauldron, Nightingales and Nifflers, or the Broomstick Boys. And with the _Veritas_ Curse that Dolores Umbridge and her cousin Jeremiah Cullen-Smythe had put on him, it was better to keep his mouth shut than risk saying the wrong truth to a Muggle ... especially a Muggle with more curiosity than a Kneazle.

* * *

After lunch, Buckaroo introduced Remus to Rawhide, the pianist, Perfect Tommy, the rhythm guitarist, Pinky Carruthers, the acting bass guitarist (the usual bass player was currently on a mission for NASA), and Pecos, the drummer. The roadies and back-up musicians were all British Blue Blaze Irregulars, and Reno explained that they had joined for this tour only, and would be replaced by French, Belgian, and German Irregulars when the Hong Kong Cavaliers moved on to the continent. They practiced a few songs, seeing where the dragonbone flute added to the music, seeing which songs the instrument simply didn't complement.

Although the Hong Kong Cavaliers could have easily filled the Royal Albert Hall every night for a month, Buckaroo Banzai had too many enemies to risk performing in a large, public venue at a concert or series of concerts that advertised throughout the entire United Kingdom and sold tickets in advance. Instead, each night the band performed at a different bar or nightclub, to the surprise and delight of the patrons. The Hong Kong Cavaliers had started out as a bar band, and security concerns aside, they preferred to stay true to their roots.

_to be continued_

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**_The Jubialatores, and later the Goliards (of California, not the band of the same name in Georgia) had a performer, the late Janet Parish-Whittaker, who played a deerbone flute._


	2. The Roadie

Remus was beginning to regret his decision to step out of the pub "for a breath of air." Muggle beer was stronger than butterbeer, so he'd gone outside to avoid temptation. The _Veritas_ Curse was hard enough to work around when he was sober. Drunk, there was no telling what he might say. His nose was keener than a normal human's. The alley - at least to him - stank of tobacco and beer ... and other liquids best left unnamed. Four of the Blue Blaze Irregulars who were acting as roadies and back up musicians had come into the alley behind the pub have a fag. Buckaroo didn't approve of cigarettes, so they tried not to smoke in front of him.

"Those three in a row, I know that's Orion," said the big, beefy blond who called himself Jolly Jack Tar. "And I could find the Plough and Cassiopeia when I was a boy, but I've forgotten most of what I used to know about the stars."

"That's the Plough." Remus pointed to the constellation Americans called the Big Dipper. "You can't see the stars properly in London. The lights of the city drown them out."

"Light pollution," Gorilla Carroll said in a thick Jamaican accent. He was a big Black man who played a cello nearly his own size, and looked quite capable of bench-pressing a Range Rover.

"You an astronomer, Lupin?" asked Osprey McCarthy. The violinist took a long drag on his cigarette and blew out a mouthful of smoke.

Remus shook his head. "Just a hobby."

"Just like the flute, eh?" Fezziwig asked. He was short and round, but a genius with the light and sound board. If he had a name other than Fezziwig, Remus hadn't heard it yet.

Remus nodded.

"Any real job, or just a lot of hobbies?" Fezziwig asked.

"I'm between positions at the moment," Remus confessed. "What about you? Are you employed by Dr. Banzai or just hanging around until you find a position, or what?"

"I'm a solicitor," Gorilla said. "This is my fortnight holiday, hanging out with Buckaroo and the Cavaliers."

"I'm working on my Ph. D.," Jolly Jack Tar explained. "I'm collecting folk songs, especially old ones that show linguistic variations of regional dialects."

Remus raised one eyebrow. "So you hang out with a rock star?"

"It's like Louis Armstrong said: 'all music is folk music - ain't no music for horses'," Jolly Jack Tar misquoted. The others chuckled, and he continued, "Buckaroo is interested in all types of music."

Remus nodded, remembering his "audition" the day before.

"Fez and I are on holiday, too," Osprey added. "He works for Auntie Beeb; I'm a sales clerk at Harrod's."

"Now, then, if you're going to be hanging around with us, what shall we call you?" Jolly Jack Tar wondered aloud.

Remus gave him a confused look.

"Mrs. Carruthers didn't name our Yank friend Pinky, nor did my mother tell the vicar to christen me Jolly Jack Tar," the blond pointed out.

Osprey chuckled. "He's Lord Jonathan Carrington-Charleton when he's at home, and the younger son of the Marquess of Charleton when he isn't playing roadie for the Hong Kong Cavaliers. "

"Tattletale," Jolly Jack Tar announced.

"At school my nickname was Moony," Remus admitted.

"Because of the astronomy?" Gorilla asked.

"In part." He hesitated a moment. "I was wild in my youth - howl-at-the-moon wild."

"Then you're in good company. We're all a little wild," Gorilla bragged.

"Shall we go in and have another pint?" Remus suggested. He desperately wanted to change the subject before they asked him questions he couldn't - or at least shouldn't - answer.

* * *

After a week of sightseeing and rehearsing by day, and performing by night, the Hong Kong Cavaliers left London. Remus went with them. Three nights in Kent, a different town and a different pub each night. Two nights in Surrey. Then they went to Berkshire, where Buckaroo declared a vacation - Remus and the British Blue Blaze Irregulars teased him that he meant a holiday - and he rented a farm in Lambourn. Every day they rode, every single one of them, from the roadies to the rock stars. They rehearsed in the morning: jazz, folk, rock, soul, classical. In the afternoons Buckaroo visited the Bronze Age barrows with an archaeologist friend whilst Rawhide and Reno organized an impromptu training class for the local Blue Blaze Irregulars: physical training (running, riding, calisthenics, obstacle courses), problem solving, and foreign languages. Some evenings, they performed at local pubs, other evenings, they sat on the grass at the farm, observing the stars, drinking fermented yak's milk, twenty-year-old Scotch, and lemon shandy, discussing Søren Kierkegaard and Ioanna Kuçuradi, Gottfried von Leibniz and Ada Lovelace.

Remus found it fascinating. It was very different from Hogwarts, and yet reminded him of his time with the Marauders. Many of the Blue Blaze Irregulars were as fond of practical jokes as the Marauders had been, and for Muggles, were ingeniously clever about them. Remus had gotten an Outstanding on his Astronomy N.E.W.T., and found a kindred soul in Rawhide when it came to stargazing. Fluent in French and Latin, he helped tutor those language classes, whilst studying German and Italian. The physical training reminded him of the Auror's training he'd heard his friends discuss, for which he'd been unable to apply. Certainly his time in the Order of the Phoenix might have been easier if he'd had training like this then.

For the first time since James and Lily Potter had died, Remus felt like he belonged again.

* * *

"_Jikkō_, Charlemagne, _jikkō_," Buckaroo urged his horse.

Reno on his dapple-gray and Remus on his strawberry-roan raced after him, but it took them a while to catch up. Buckaroo had learned to ride almost as soon as he had learned to walk, and Charlemagne was a former Grand National winner, now retired to stud duty.

"What was that you were saying before?" Remus asked when the three of them stopped to rest their horses. "_Jikkó_?"

"_Jikkō_," Buckaroo corrected his pronunciation. "Japanese for run. I speak Spanish to God, French to women, English to men, and Japanese to my horse."

Remus smiled. He glanced down the hill and saw a half-dozen horses grazing in the meadow. It was good to be on a horse again; he hadn't been in the saddle since he'd left Hogwarts. He and the other Marauders had gone straight from school to joining Dumbledore in his fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

He couldn't help thinking of James and Lily. James had taught him how to ride. James had looked forward to Harry on his first pony as much as he had his first broom. Remus wondered what happened to the Potter estate: had solicitors hired stewards to look after the land, the golden fields of barley, the green pastures, the flocks of sheep, the stable full of horses? Would the steward be willing to hire a werewolf? Or had everything been sold and the money put in Gringotts to wait for Harry to come of age? He lost his smile thinking of poor, orphaned Harry.

"You okay?" Buckaroo asked.

"What?" The question startled Remus; his mind had been wandering like an off-course broom.

"At the Banzai Institute, we have the Three Bs," Buckaroo explained. "The Bus, the Bath, and the Bed. That's where the greatest discoveries are made in science."

"When you're at your most relaxed, your most receptive, that's when ideas pop into your head like a bullet." Reno suggested, "Maybe we should add a fourth B, back of a horse."

"You looked like you were engrossed in deep, serious thoughts. Are you okay?" Buckaroo repeated.

"Just remembering the friend who taught me to ride," Remus confessed. "His family had a place in Wiltshire, not far from Stonehenge. He's dead now, he and his wife, and I miss them both."

"How did they die?" Reno asked.

"They were murdered. Betrayed by someone they trusted, someone they thought was a friend. Someone I thought was a friend." To this day, he couldn't understand how Sirius could have betrayed them to Voldemort. He'd wanted to go to Azkaban and ask him, but Black wasn't permitted visitors.

"A man who trusts can never be betrayed, only mistaken," Buckaroo quoted. He fell silent for a moment. "My wife was murdered. The people we love are never truly gone, as long as we remember them."

"From the time I was eleven, he was one of my best friends. And she was like a sister to me. They will never be forgotten," Remus said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Then they will never truly die," Buckaroo assured him.

* * *

That night, after most of the Irregulars had gone to bed, Buckaroo gathered Rawhide, Perfect Tommy, and Reno in the barn. "What do you think of the new guy?"

"He's hiding something," Rawhide said immediately.

"What?" Buckaroo inhaled, enjoying the sweet smell of the fresh hay.

"I called Billy Travers," Perfect Tommy reported. Billy was a sixteen year old computer hacker, an intern at the Banzai Institute back in New Jersey. He'd been offered a job at the National Security Agency when he was only fourteen years old. "Billy says there's nothing. No birth certificate, no school records, no driver's license."

Reno nodded. "False name." Not having been born Reno Nevada, the slender dark-haired man was no stranger to aliases. None of them were. Of the Hong Kong Cavaliers, only Buckaroo Banzai used his real name.

"He hardly ever answers right away; he almost always thinks first before he speaks," Rawhide added.

"Not a bad thing, in and of itself," Buckaroo noted. "Too damned many people speak without thinking at all.

"True enough," Rawhide agreed, "but Remus always thinks first, like he's measuring his words before he uses them."

Buckaroo nodded; that matched his own observations. "Strengths? Weaknesses?"

"Good naked-eye astronomer, but almost totally ignorant of astrophysics," Rawhide said.

"Fluent in French, with a Bordeaux accent," Perfect Tommy reported. "Fluent in Latin, both spoken and written. Learning Italian quickly, learning German slowly. Helps the others with their language lessons. Seems to have a knack for both languages and teaching."

"In good shape physically, but obviously hasn't had any training like this before," Reno added. "Doing well for a newbie."

"Good on a horse," Rawhide added.

"Takes a practical joke with a smile, then gives as good as he gets." Reno reached for the leather wineskin, full of fermented yak's milk, and drank deeply.

"Good flutist," Rawhide said.

"Flautist," Perfect Tommy corrected automatically. Americans said flutists. The English said flautist or flute-player, and they were in England.

"Does anyone know what he does he do for a living when he's not a janitor? What his hobbies are beyond playing a bone flute? Where was he educated? What did he study?" Buckaroo asked.

The other three shook their heads.

"I like him," Buckaroo announced. "Do we recruit him?"

"For the Blue Blaze Irregulars, definitely. As an intern for the Institute, no, not yet," Rawhide advised. He didn't even suggest the possibility of Remus joining the Hong Kong Cavaliers.

"Too many unanswered questions," Reno agreed.

"The only way to know if a man is trustworthy," Buckaroo began.

"Is to trust him," all four said in unison.

He went on to the next potential candidate. "What about Alice Tremayne?"

"Comet? Good musician, good biochemist." Rawhide turned to Reno and looked pointedly at the wineskin. Reno passed it over to him.

_to be continued_

**_Author's Note: _**Søren Kierkegaard (1813 - 1855), Danish philosopher, Ioanna Kuçuradi (born 1936), Turkish philosopher, Gottfried von Leibniz (1646 - 1716), German mathematician, Ada Lovelace (1815 - 1852), English mathematician.


	3. Wizards and Warriors

After a week in Berkshire, they went north to Oxford.

"Good to get back to Oxford." Buckaroo Banzai looked out the bus window at the historic city.

"You've been here before? Tourist or student?" Remus asked.

Buckaroo nodded. "I was a student at Merton College." He'd proposed to his wife there, sitting on the banks of the River Thames. His godfather, Sir Godwin Lloyd-Jones, held the Pym Chair of Physics at Oxford University. He'd been a guest lecturer more than once. He looked from the view out the window to his new roadie/flute-player. "You all right? You look tired."

Remus didn't say anything.

"Did you stay up too late stargazing?" Buckaroo asked.

Remus hesitated before answering. He would have loved to have jumped on that excuse, but the _Veritas_ Curse wouldn't let him. He'd actually gone to bed early last night. "You remember I said I had a medical problem that flares up now and again?" When Buckaroo nodded, he continued, "I'm due for ... an episode. I'm probably going to have to take a few days off."

"What sort of medical problem?" Buckaroo had several doctorates, including an M. D.

Remus wondered what would happen if he said lycanthropy. Could he say it in such a tone that Buckaroo would think he was joking? "It's ... of a personal nature."

Buckaroo lowered his voice. "VD?"

Remus' left eyebrow rose, and again, he wished he could lie. He shook his head. "It's kind of you to be concerned, but I'm afraid it's not your area of expertise."

"I don't like to brag, but I have a lot of areas of expertise," Buckaroo reminded him. "And the Institute has experts in a lot of fields. We do a fair bit of medical research, from the common cold to AIDS to Brown-Sequard Syndrome to Mucopolysaccharidosis. "

With a name like the Banzai Institute for Biomedical Engineering and Strategic Information, it wasn't impossible that Buckaroo and his associates could look at lycanthropy from a whole new angle, possibly even find a cure. But how could he reveal that he was a werewolf with also revealing that he was a wizard? And that would break the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, which would get him in big trouble with both the British Wizengamot as well as the International Confederation of Wizards. Worse, that would mean dealing with Dolores Umbridge again, of the Improper Use of Magic Office. Dolores Umbitch, the woman responsible for his current difficulty.

As Remus looked out the bus window, he thought of the _Veritas_ Curse and the woman who'd given it to him. He'd gone to the Ministry of Magic, to see if there was any way to get a waiver for the anti-werewolf legislation that made it so difficult for him to get a job. Unfortunately, the Ministry had never been able to make up its mind whether werewolves were Beasts or Beings. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had three offices that dealt with werewolves. The Beast Division was in charge of the Werewolf Registry and the Werewolf Capture Unit. Remus shuddered involuntarily, remembering the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures also fell under their jurisdiction. The Being Division was in charge of Werewolf Support Services. All three offices were underfunded and understaffed: the Ministry apparently considered werewolves dangerous, but not a priority.

_Remus knocked timidly on the door of the Werewolf Registry Office._

_"Come in," a man's voice called out._

_Remus opened the door and stepped inside. He blinked, and tried not to stare. The two people in the office drinking tea looked like the failed results of an experiment in breeding humans with toads. The woman was dressed in all pink, a look far more appropriate for a girl of six than a woman in her thirties or forties. The man wore a gray Savile Row suit beneath green robes, which increased his resemblance to a bullfrog._

_"Mr. Cullen-Smythe?" Remus asked tentatively._

_"Yes?" the human bullfrog replied._

_"I was looking for Amaryllis Prewett, but -"_

_"Mrs. Prewett's with Werewolf Support Services, down the hall," Jeremiah Cullen-Smythe interrupted._

_"Yes, I've just been to her office. She's on holiday. I was wondering if you could help me, or tell me who's covering her duties whilst she's in Majorca," Remus asked politely._

_"She's out, and you're interrupting us," the woman in pink complained._

_"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but if you could just direct me to whomever has taken over her duties whilst she's gone -" When the Order of the Phoenix fought against Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore and James Potter had subsidized him. Now that the Order had disbanded and Dumbledore had gone back to Hogwarts, now that James and Lily were dead, he had to find a job and he was finding it difficult. He could hardly list a secret vigilante order as a job reference._

_"Do you know who I am?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "I am Dolores Umbridge of the Improper Use of Magic Office. I take it you're a filthy werewolf. You have no business pestering proper witches and wizards."_

_"I'm very sorry to disturb you," Remus lied, "but I'm having trouble finding an honest job, and I was hoping Mrs. Prewitt could either give me a waiver or help me find a position."_

_"Is this what you have to deal with all day, Jeremiah, filthy beasts whinging about their problems?" Umbridge turned and asked Cullen-Smythe._

_"Unfortunately, coz." Cullen-Smythe took another sip of tea._

_"So you want to trick some honest wizard into hiring a foul werewolf?" Umbridge demanded._

_"Certainly not. I just want to find a job. I have five N.E.W.T.s," Remus told her._

_"A likely story." Umbridge pulled out her wand and murmured an incantation under her breath. She summoned a prisoner's chair from the courtroom. She waved her wand again, and Remus tumbled back into the chair. Manacles emerged from the armrests of the chair and held Remus in place. "When I am in a position of authority, I shall make sure that werewolves know their place. Don't you think, coz, that this creature should be prevented from lying to decent wizards?"_

_"Certainly," Cullen-Smythe agreed._

_"The Veritas Curse?" she suggested._

_"Excellent notion." Cullen-Smythe drew his wand. Together, they cast the Veritas curse. Then he flicked his wand at the chair, and the manacles withdrew into the arm of the chair. "Out, wolf."_

_Remus knew that they'd violated his civil rights, but he also knew it would be a waste of time to protest. He left without a word._

"Remus?" Buckaroo said softly.

Remus realized he'd been lost in his memories. "You're kind to offer, Buckaroo, but -" He couldn't say 'I don't think you'd be able to help with this problem,' because Buckaroo and his team were brilliant enough, and thought so far outside the box as to ignore the box's existence, that they might be able to help - "but this isn't something with which you can help me." At least, not if Remus wanted to avoid breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy_._

Buckaroo reached over and gently placed a hand on Remus' shoulder. "If you change your mind, I'm here for you."

* * *

The Sheldonian Theatre had been designed by Sir Christopher Wren for recitals, lectures, graduation ceremonies, etc. It could hold a thousand students. Tonight it held over eight hundred screaming fans, and instead of a student quartet performing Chopin or a guest professor lecturing on the political-economic development of Zenobia's empire in the third century, the center of attention was the world famous Hong Kong Cavaliers.

It was a night for rock. It was a night for blues. And if a little jazz crept in, or the occasional folk song, no one in the audience complained.

From the Monkees' "Daydream Believer" to the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine," from Stan Rogers' "Barrett's Privateers" to Dan Fogelberg's "Longer," from Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill" to Lerner & Loewe's "Almost Like Being in Love," from a dozen original songs composed by Buckaroo and his colleagues to songs by W. C. Handy, Johann Sebastian Bach, and Leslie Fish. The Hong Kong Cavaliers transported the audience from Oxford to Memphis to Detroit. Songs of love, songs of cars, songs of rebellion. When Buckaroo got tired, he stepped aside and let Rawhide or Perfect Tommy take the lead for a song or two.

The next two hours were magical.

**"**I get by with a little help from my friends," Buckaroo sang. "Yes, I get by with a little help from my friends, with a little help from my friends." He struck the final chords on the guitar. "You've been a wonderful audience. Thank you, thank you very much. I am Buckaroo Banzai; we are the Hong Kong Cavaliers, and you - -you are absolutely beautiful. Be safe going home."

After the applause died down and the last member of the audience had left the seventeenth century theater, the musicians began to pack up their instruments. It took Remus only a moment to slip his dragonbone flute into the hand-tooled leather case which one of the Blue Blaze Irregulars, Jolly Jack Tar, had made for him as an unbirthday present. Buckaroo, Perfect Tommy, and Pinky Carruthers all put their own guitars in their cases; they never permitted anyone else to touch their instruments. Remus fetched Reno's saxophone case and handed it to him, then went to help Jolly Jack Tar and Pecos dissemble the drum set.

"Dr. Banzai," a deep voice said from the dark seats of the theater. The voice spoke with an odd accent, one Remus didn't recognize.

From the way Buckaroo and the Hong Kong Cavaliers tensed, ready for action, they recognized either the voice or the accent.

"My master salutes you. He says it is a good day to die."

Remus looked up. He saw a small man, about the size of a goblin, dressed in black leather and bronze armor. A black veil was drawn over the bottom half of his face.

Buckaroo swore in Spanish. Rawhide swore in English.

"Hanoi Xan's Death Dwarves," Reno muttered. He reached for a gun that wasn't there. In deference to England's stricter gun laws, none of the Cavaliers were armed.

The name meant nothing to Remus, but given the way all the Cavaliers and about half the Blue Blaze Irregulars reacted, it obviously meant something to them. Remus looked around. There wasn't one Death Dwarf. There were dozens. The black and bronze uniform made them nearly invisible in the shadows of the semi-darkened building, until they stepped forward.

A dozen shuriken flew through the air. Remus ducked behind Pecos' drum set. He watched in amazement as Buckaroo and Perfect Tommy leapt into the air. Both men turned somersaults in mid-air, landing in front of two Death Dwarves. In unison the two kicked. Two Death Dwarves fell back on their rear ends. Still moving in unison - Remus found himself oddly reminded of the Busby Berkeley musicals his Muggle-born mother liked to watch - they reached down, slamming a karate chop against their foes' necks. Without pausing for breath, they moved on to two more.

Automatically, Remus reached for his wand, then stopped himself. There were too many witnesses.

Remus was reminded of fights against the Death Eaters. Everything was happening all at once. Blows were exchanged, men hitting, kicking. More shuriken flew through the air. Knives, too. The Hong Kong Cavaliers and the Blue Blaze Irregulars seized the weapons and threw them back. Karate, judo, savate, fisticuffs - it was impossible to keep track of who was doing what to whom.

Reno grabbed two of the deadly, diminutive attackers and slammed their heads together. Perfect Tommy kicked as though he had six feet instead of two, seeming to be everywhere at once. Buckaroo moved too swiftly for Remus to watch. Jolly Jack Tar danced with the Death Dwarves, one of their own knives in his hand, and moved with ferocious grace. Osprey threw a microphone and bonked a Death Dwarf in the head. Pecos pulled the cymbals from off her drum set and tossed them like chrakram. She then leapt into the fray, engaging in hand to hand combat with three of the Death Dwarves simultaneously.

Remus looked around again. Chaos and confusion reigned. No one, he realized, would see what he was doing. He saw a Death Dwarf sneaking up on Gorilla, a knife in his hand. He drew his wand and aimed. "_Accio_ knife," he whispered.

The knife escaped the assassin's fingers, slicing the skin off as it flew to Remus. The knife shot toward him. Remus ducked behind the drum set. The knife pierced the bass drum. Remus flattened himself to the floor, avoiding the blade. "Not my brightest idea," he muttered to himself.

Buckaroo kicked one Death Dwarf, knocking him to his knees, then Comet hit him with her oboe. Another Death Dwarf ran at Reno; the saxophonist seized him and threw him over his shoulder.

"_Stupefy_." A jet of scarlet light emerged from Remus' wand. It hit the nearest Death Dwarf, knocking him unconscious.

The fight continued. Kicks and blows, knife slashes and punches. And spells. Spells muttered under a certain werewolf's breath.

As Buckaroo fought two Death Dwarves, a third approached him from behind, his blade in his hand. The third one prepared to knife Buckaroo in the back.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," Remus said. The Body-Bind Curse instantly took effect. The Death Dwarf's arms and legs snapped together. He fell to the floor, as stiff as a board. The knife slipped from his frozen fingers.

Buckaroo turned his head. He saw the Death Dwarf laying unmoving on the floor behind him. He saw Remus, half-crouched behind the drums, a wand in his hand. One dark eyebrow rose.

Remus had no time to explain. Another Death Dwarf was approaching Reno. He aimed his wand again. "_Stupefy_!"

Buckaroo didn't waste time asking questions. Either there'd be time after the fight, or else they'd be dead. Either way, now was no time for explanations. He was already tired from the concert. Live performances were draining, both emotionally and physically. What he wanted was a goatskin of fermented yak's milk, some fish and chips, and then his bed. What he got were Death Dwarves, sent by Hanoi Xan, the man who'd killed his parents, the man who'd tried, more than once, to kill him. Rest, like questions, was a luxury he simply couldn't afford at the moment.

Logically, the Death Dwarves should have defeated Buckaroo and his people easily. The Death Dwarves outnumbered them three to two. Hanoi Xan's minions were fresh, prepared for the fight, and the Hong Kong Cavaliers and Blue Blaze Irregulars were tired. They were eager to please their dread master, and willing to die to do so.

Buckaroo had never been a slave to logic. He'd fought against worse odds and won, and he had no intention of dying just to please Hanoi Xan. As for the Cavaliers and the Irregulars, they were too stubborn to give up just because the odds were against them. Even as they gouged out eyes, even as they kicked the Death Dwarves in the groin, ignoring all rules of "pick on someone your own size," they knew they were fighting on the side of the angels. And angels don't quit just because they're exhausted, bruised, and bleeding.

Rawhide tripped one of the Death Dwarves. Comet and Pecos each grabbed an arm and threw him into the empty seats. Perfect Tommy ducked a Death Dwarf who'd leapt at him, then without pausing for breath, kicked two more. Remus cast another Stunning Spell.

One of the Death Dwarves barked out a series of orders in a Mongolian dialect assumed by most linguists to be a dead language. The Death Dwarves who were alive and relatively whole immediately ceased fighting. They grabbed their wounded and ran. Battered and exhausted, the Cavaliers and Irregulars didn't even try to stop them.

"What the Hell was that all about?" Osprey asked.

"He ordered them to retreat." Buckaroo exhaled heavily. "He told them they needed to withdraw, so they could report to Hanoi Xan about my new weapon." He looked at Remus and raised his right eyebrow. "I'd like to know about my new weapon myself."

"I'm sorry, Buckaroo." Remus raised his wand. "_Obliviate_."

* * *

Buckaroo watched the video camera footage. He was trying to decide which songs to submit to the new MTV Channel. He frowned as he watched Remus Lupin play a flute solo during a Mozart sonata. Hadn't Lupin left the group when they left Lambourn? The concert ended, and the footage rolled on. Buckaroo kept watching. Analyzing the fight against Hanoi Xan's henchmen might help them do better next time.

Buckaroo swore softly. He watched as Remus, whom he could have sworn left the group a few days ago, pointed a wand at one of Hanoi Xan's Death Dwarves. A red light, like a laser, appeared; the Death Dwarf fell unconscious.

"Nothing real can defeat us. Nothing unreal exists." Buckaroo pushed the rewind button, then watched the videotape again.

_finis_

_Danke schön. _Many thanks to Sheila Paulson and Jaime Whistler for beta-reading. _Merci beaucoup._


	4. Timeline

**Timeline**

**1913** Emilio Lizardo born

**1918** Masado Banzai born

**1921** Sandra Willoughby born

**1926** Tom Marvolo Riddle born (aka Lord Voldemort)

**1935** Toichi Hikita and Masado Banzai start working together in Japan

**1937** Masado Banzai and Toichi Hikita invited to Texas by Edward McKay Willoughy, meets Sandra; Masado goes back to Japan after a month, Hikita stays

**1938** Toichi Hikita and Emilio Lizardo create first Overthruster at Princeton

**October 30th, 1938** - Orson Welles broadcasts "War of the Worlds" depicting an invasion of Earth by aliens at Grovers Mill, New Jersey. Was it a hoax or actually the arrival of Red Lectroids on Earth from the Eighth Dimension?

**November 1st, 1938** - A large number of Yoyodyne employees apply for Social Security numbers on this day in Grovers Mill, New Jersey. All have the first name John.

**1939** John Bigbooté takes over administrative control of Yoyodyne

**September 1, 1939** Hitler invades Poland

**1940** Sandra Willoughby goes to Nagasaki, Japan

**1941** Masado and Sandra flee Japan in late November

**1943** Masado Banzai vs. Hanoi Xan in Burma

**1945 **Albus Dumbledore dueled Gellert Grindelwald

**1946** Masado Banzai and Sandra Willoughby finally in America; team up with Toichi Hikita and Sir Godwin Lloyd-Jones

**1949** Masado Banzai and Sandra Willoughby married

**1950** Buckaroo Banzai born in London - winter

**1954** Peggy and Penny Simpson born

**1955** Masado and Sandra Banzai die in jet car explosion, along with driver George Campbell

**1960** Lily Evans born (January 30), Remus Lupin born (March 10), James Potter born (March 27)

**1964** Buckaroo Banzai leaves Denver schools

**1965** Mrs. Eunice Johnson born (later widow of Flyboy)

**1966** Buckaroo Banzai takes a hiking tour of Europe and Asia. In Amsterdam, he witnesses the wedding procession of Princess Wilhelmina (later Queen Beatrix) of the Netherlands - March 10

**July 20, 1969** Apollo 11 landed on the moon. NASA refuses to confirm or deny Buckaroo's presence in mission control, or his contributions to lunar research.

**1972** Banzai Institute founded

**1973** Nymphadora Tonks born

**1979** Hermione Granger born (September 19)

**1980** Ron Weasley born (March 1), Harry Potter born (July 31)

**1981** James and Lily Potter murdered in Godric's Hollow - Halloween

**1981** Séance staged to discover Peggy's killer, Captain Happen kills himself - Nov. 5

**1982 **"The Man with the Dragonbone Flute"

**1984** _The Adventures Of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension _- June 12-13


End file.
